Say You, Say Me
by TheRisingSon
Summary: "He always felt like that around Sam. Like he was falling. The ceiling started to blur and there was a telltale stinging in his eyes. But, like with Carly, he would hit the ground sometime and when he did, he had to get up and walk away." Three shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everybody! I just want you guys to know I appreciate your reviews and that no, I don't own iCarly even though it may seem that way.**

**This is the first part of a two-shot. It took me a long time to write because I had no idea what to say.**

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><p>"<em>And what they played was a masquerade. <em>

_And from behind the walls of doubt, a voice was crying out."_

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><p>"Ow! What the hell, Sam?" Freddie exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head in annoyance. He glared in turn at the offending metal bar behind him and down at the head of wavy, blonde hair. "Did you have to—"<p>

"Shut up, nub," she whispered. Her breath came out ragged and in the sparse light that penetrated beneath the bleachers, he could see her lips were swollen and her clothes rumpled. Her narrowed eyes darted left and right, peering through the meager space between the aluminum benches, searching for the disturbance that had interrupted their make out session. "I thought I heard someone. Listen."

They stood still, holding each other tightly for five breathless seconds until Freddie relaxed

"There's no one there. It's lunch. No one should be in the gym."

Sam glanced up at him with her eyebrows scrunched worriedly.

"But _we're_ in here," she pointed out.

Freddie couldn't say anything to that so instead he let out a breath through his nose and nodded in agreement. At that moment, the gym doors burst open, throwing a cacophony of harsh echoes around the empty space. Sam quickly hunched down in the shadows and pulled a slow reacting Freddie down with her. Footsteps soon brought Mr. Howard into view. His head reflected the glaring fluorescent lights as he made a bee line to the opposite side and exited through single door to the grounds outside.

"Ha," Sam said quietly. She smirked at him triumphantly, knowing she had proved him wrong yet again.

Freddie rolled his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her smile for good measure before grabbing her hand. He had become accustomed to losing so it didn't pain him to admit defeat. He could count the all the times he had won on one hand with four missing fingers. That was the time he managed to convince her to admit she liked him. Oh, what a glorious day that had been.

"Fine, you were right. Now let's get out of here. I think I'm developing black lung from all this dust."

They cautiously eased their way into the hall that led to the cafeteria. It was completely silent so Sam was in a good mood. Their interlaced fingers started to swing. Freddie chuckled when Sam began to hum the first strains of a non-descript song.

"What song is that?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I made it up. Why?"

"Sounds good."

"'Course it does. What part of '_I_ made it up' don't you understand?"

Freddie snorted and shoved her lightly with his shoulder for being a smart-ass. She gave him a look of incredulity and responded with a harder push, one that caused him to stumble into the lockers with a resonating bang. However, their hands were still joined so Freddie managed to drag her along for the short, jarring ride. The air was unceremoniously forced out of his lungs when she collided with his chest. He collapsed, wheezing for breath. Sam snickered from her seat on the ground next to him.

"You shoulda let go, dork."

"Never," he croaked. The floor was comfortably cool against his cheek which prompted him to ignore his mother's warnings about harmful microbes and rest for a few seconds. He closed his eyes to savor moment, having innocent fun and not so innocent fun, spending carefree minutes with his girlfriend before they had to face reality.

"Dude, wake up," he felt one of her custom Chuck Taylors begin to nudge him insistently in the ribs, "Lunch is almost over and I'm not missing Beef Teriyaki day."

Freddie opened his eyes.

"Stay here? With me?" he asked hesitantly.

She held his gaze for a brief moment then turned away.

"Come on."

Sam wordlessly tugged him onto his feet. The rest of the journey was subdued. He could tell Sam was uncomfortable with the way she stared at the pattern of colors on the floor, but frankly, he didn't care. It was her own fault.

They arrived at the doors to the cafeteria and Freddie experienced a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was always the worst part about dating Sam. His grip tightened on her hand to no avail. She had always been stronger than him. She pried her hand away and shot him a conflicted look, half anger and half sorrow and all together confused.

Then she disappeared through the double doors, leaving him to follow through her pumpkin pie scented trail.

He waited for Sam and Carly outside the front entrance. The January air was cold and biting, especially when it decided whip into a fierce gust that tore across the parking lot. Freddie was slightly sheltered behind a small pillar, but he still zipped up his jacket against the chill. He was annoyed with his friends for taking so long when they knew there was bad weather afoot. Deep down, he figured they had a good reason, yet he was still irritated. He realized it spawned from his interaction with Sam a couple hours earlier. It was strange, really. He had never wanted anything else before, but lately Sam's stubbornness had gotten to him. They had been together for two months. Didn't he deserve to be able to walk into the cafeteria hand-in-hand with her?

The doors next to him slammed open and out tumbled the source of his frustration.

"'Sup, Fredweiser," she slapped him on the back, "you look a little blue."

"Sam, I've been—"

"Sorry, Freddie," Carly interrupted, "Mr. Haynes caught Sam eating jerky. She got _chewed_ _out_ after class."

She broke down into a fit of giggles while Sam rolled her eyes. Freddie ignored them both and headed to his car.

"Let's go. My mom wants me home by 3:30."

"What's up with you?" Sam asked when she clambered into the passenger seat. She had claimed it as her own back when his mom had allowed him to buy a car with his investment money. There was even a little messy "SAM" stitched into the head rest. Freddie never wanted to find out when and how she had done it. Carly clicked the seatbelt in the backseat right behind Sam, and Freddie pulled out of the parking space.

"Nothing," was his curt reply. He knew they wouldn't drop it, but, with Carly around, he and Sam couldn't discuss anything.

"Well, it sure doesn't sound like nothing. Out with it!"

"Sam!" Carly reprimanded, "You can't just force people to divulge their problems! Freddie, is there anything we can do?"

"No."

He smiled when everything grew quiet. Sam fidgeted in her seat once in a while and he could tell she was frequently sneaking glances at him. They made it to Bushwell without another sound.

It was only when they were in the elevator that Carly nervously asked, "You guys want to hang at my place? Well, Sam already is so actually I should ask do you want to come over, Freddie?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

She sighed and Sam frowned.

As it turned out, he did follow them into Carly's apartment only to leave minutes after with the excuse of doing homework. After unlocking the door to his own apartment, Freddie quickly went to his room. He took out his science book, opened it to a random page and started reading. He was a couple paragraphs in when his door squeaked open. He could tell who it was even before she threatened him and put him into a headlock.

Sam's voice hissed into his ear. "You've got 5 seconds to spill it, Benson, or else I'll—"

Freddie was feeling particularly peeved.

"Do it," he said still staring at his book.

"What?" Sam asked as if she hadn't heard him right.

"Do it. Make...my...day."

"Fine."

Her hold on him tightened and he actually thought she was going to go through with it. But just as soon as she had attacked him, she let go. He heard her flop on the bed.

"Freddie...did I—did I do something?"

Her voice was soft and quiet, two things she rarely were. Freddie nearly forgave her then and there. He spun around in his desk chair. She was lying on his bed fiddling around with one of his Galaxy Wars action figures.

"Why don't you want to be seen with me?"

She froze.

"Sam?"

He walked over and sat down. She glanced at him then back at the action figure.

"I'm seen with you all the time."

"Like as a couple."

She began moving the arms on the figurine like it was punching something.

"We're keeping it a secret, remember? Like we _agreed_," she said slowly, placing extra emphasis on the word _agreed_. "Besides. What's the problem?"

He gently took the action figure from her hands and placed it back on his bedside table.

"The problem is I want to be your boyfriend."

"Well, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Um, yeah," she said, sitting up, "you are."

"It's not enough, Sam, and you know it. For some reason, you don't want people to know I'm your boyfriend and I'm getting sorta tired of it."

She snorted in amusement and hopped off his bed.

"Geez, why are you acting like such a girl? Are you hanging out with Melanie, behind my back? 'Cuz it sure seems like she's rubbing off on you."

Freddie glared heatedly.

"Just answer the damn question, Sam."

She opened and closed her mouth several times then decided to mutter, "I'm leaving. And tomorrow you better not have this...this" she gestured wildly, then gave up and left.

If Freddie could have planned for any worst case scenarios, this would have been the one.

The next day, Sam cold shouldered him throughout the first four periods. She made a point of sitting across the room and avoided eye contact. A gloomy Freddie sat alone, wallowing in his despair and feeling jilted because their situation was the opposite of what it should be. She was in the wrong. She should be gloomy. She should be wallowing.

Freddie then chided himself for maledicting his girlfriend. He was mad at her. But he still loved her. A twinge of pain shot through his chest as a new thought occurred to him.

Did she love him?

He straightened up, resolving to talk to her just before lunch. It had to be settled.

The bell rang signaling the end of fourth period. Sam was closer to the door so she escaped first. He dashed out after her, hoping to catch her as she neared the cafeteria.

"Sam! Sam! Wait!"

Luck must have been on his side because, directly across from the double doors of the cafeteria, she turned around and stopped as all the students flowed around her.

No one complained. She was Sam Puckett.

"Hey," she mumbled, gazing nowhere in particular, "Look, if you—"

He pulled her aside, out from the middle of the hallway.

"Do you love me?" He asked urgently.

Her gaze dropped to the ground and along with it went his heart.

"Yeah."

He felt relief coupled with a rush of affection towards the blushing blonde. Hearing her say it out loud made him feel like everything was going to be all right.

But it wasn't.

He pointed at the cafeteria.

"If you love me, I want you to walk through those doors and tell everyone."

She screwed her eyes shut in an expression he had never seen on her face.

It looked like she was about to cry.

The guilt in his stomach churned, but Freddie forced it down. It had to be done. For once in his life, he felt he had the right to be selfish.

"Sam, if you don't...I'm going to...I'm...it-it's going to be over."

She made no sign of having heard him.

"Please, Sam, please," he begged. It wasn't any easier for him. He didn't want it to end. And yet, he told himself there was no moving forward unless Sam wanted to.

"Please," he whispered.

A few tears leaked out and slid down her cheek, falling through the air as she shook her head.

His chest hurt more than anything he had ever felt. And it only worsened as he silently turned and walked through the doors, leaving a beautiful, tear-streaked part of him behind.

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><p><strong>So how was it? Good? Bad? Ugly?<strong>

**Please review with some constructive criticism! Don't just say you like it or you didn't like it. Tell me why!**

**Thanks. **


	2. Chapter 2

**So I don't own iCarly...yeah...**

**I decided I couldn't fit the rest of the story in one chapter so instead I split it up into two chapters. Which, if I did the math correctly, will change this from a two shot into a three shot.**

**Yay! **

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><p>"<em>As we go down life's lonesome highway,<em>

_it seems the hardest thing to do is find a friend or two." _

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><p>Life without Sam was bearable. At least for the first 17 minutes.<p>

Sam failed to show for lunch and in the state he had left her, Freddie couldn't expect anything else. Carly on the other hand took a seat across from him and chattered away, bright and chipper while he purposefully concentrated on eating his food. She didn't notice he wasn't responding until part way through a completely one-sided argument about how Mr. Travis should really shave his mustache.

"I mean, his wife couldn't possibly be attracted by a—Freddie? Are you even listening to me?"

Freddie nodded but didn't look up from his food.

Scoop, chew, swallow.

Scoop, chew, swallow.

Carly continued on her rant.

"-anyway, he doesn't even take care of it! It looks like something crawled onto his face one day and decided to hibernate. If he really wants to-"

Scoop, chew, swallow.

Scoop, chew, swallow.

Scoop-

"Hey, have you seen Sam anywhere?"

-swallow.

Freddie started to choke and he grabbed for his milk, taking a few rapid gulps to clear the obstruction. Carly gave him a worried look and set down her fork.

"Are you okay?"

18 minutes after he had ended his relationship with Sam, Freddie finally felt the weight his decision. He had quite possibly ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him. And in the forefront of his mind, there was the devastatingly simple question: Why?

"No. I think I feel sick.

Freddie finished off the last bite of his meatballs and mashed potatoes, tossed his lunch tray and empty milk carton in the trash, and left the cafeteria only to find his hands stuffed in his pockets, brushing against nothing but spare change and lint. In a slight daze, he set off down the hallway.

Suddenly, there was a soft coolness against his cheek, like the fabric of a pillow. It was dark so he opened his eyes. He was lying on his side in a strangely familiar bed. A quick confirmatory glance proved that it was indeed his Galaxy Wars comforter and he _was_ resting his head on a pillow. He should have been alarmed at having woken up in his room with no memory as to how he had gotten there. But he didn't because he couldn't care less at the moment.

If a fire started, he would die in his bed staring at the wall as it went up in flames.

He managed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

He scanned over the numerous picture frames lined up on his dresser. Many of the snapshots had all three of the iCarly members in the midst of some ridiculous shenanigan. Gibby and Spencer even popped up here and there. But out of all the pictures, only two of them were pictures of a couple.

The first one was one of him and Carly, back when they were dating. They had gone to a mall and, being foolishly giddy with the excitement of a new relationship, they invaded a photo booth and took several strips of kisses and wacky faces. He only kept one, the one where they were giving each other bunny ears, for sentimental reasons.

The second was one of him and Sam. The angle was skewed because Carly had just begun to test out her new camera. And on the way to the Groovy Smoothie, Sam had decided to jump on his back. Immediately, Carly snapped a photo. In it, Sam was laughing in mirth with her hands around his neck while he fell forward, surprise etched on his face.

Freddie sighed and turned to gaze at the ceiling.

He always felt like that around Sam.

Like he was falling.

The ceiling started to blur and there was a telltale stinging in his eyes.

But, like with Carly, he had to hit the ground sometime and when he did, he needed to get up and walk away.

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><p>The next day, Freddie strolled into school with a smile on his face and apprehension in his heart. The trip to his locker seemed miles longer than usual. But that was only because his eyes roved back and forth, searching for the blonde headed girl in order to avoid her. Luckily, he made it to his locker without any incidences. He knelt down to retrieve his first period textbook. Just as he was stuffing the book into his back pack, he heard a lock dial twisting above his head. He told himself to not look up, but he couldn't resist.<p>

Sam's eyes were ringed with exhaustion and her hair was straggly and limp. A pang of guilt shot through him and he couldn't help saying her name with a tinge of worry.

"Sam..."

She looked down at him with an indifferent expression before slamming her locker shut. She spared him one last glance, and then turned around, disappearing down the hallway.

Suddenly, he didn't want to go to class anymore.

So he didn't.

Freddie spent several hours sitting in the corner of the library at one of the round tables. He was supposed to be doing class work, but he'd been staring at the same grammar worksheet since he sat down.

Moving on was easier said than done, especially when he still loved Sam. After brooding for quite a long time, he came to the unpleasant conclusion that he had to find someone else, someone who liked him and wouldn't be afraid to be with him in public, someone easy and simple.

Yeah. That's what he would do.

Little did he know, the problem would present a timely solution in the form of Julia Angstrom.

The brunette with long, dark curly hair was waiting in front of his locker before lunch. Curiosity piqued, he walked up to her and she introduced herself.

"Hey, Freddie, I'm Julia," she said with a smile, "I'm in your—"

"—math class, yeah, I recognize you. You sit next to me, right?"

She nodded, apparently happy that he remembered her.

"Yeah. I'm having trouble in that class and since you're, you know, the best in the class, I was wondering, if it isn't too much of a bother, if you could tutor me..."

She trailed off at the end when he raised an eyebrow. Quickly, she became flushed.

"I mean, if you don't have the time or you just don't want to that's okay. I was just—"

"When do you want to meet?"

She looked relieved.

"Maybe during lunch on Thursday? In the library?"

It was a significant step in his plan to have happened so quickly. So he agreed and she scribbled her contact information on a scrap of paper.

"Here's my number in case something comes up. Thank you so much! Bye, Freddie!"

Julia walked off, nearly bumping into Sam as she went. She gave a squeak of terror at the look on Sam's face and dashed away. Sam's gaze followed the girl for a moment before turning on Freddie. She gave him single, fleeting desperate look that managed to shake him considerably.

But he lowered his head and walked away feeling both ashamed and victorious.

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><p>Tutoring Julia proved to be a lot more than he bargained for.<p>

"So you divide by n+1 and you should get—"

"4n squared, right?" Julia scrambled through her work, crossing out variables here and there. "Is it? I thought I had it. Am I right? Hmmm...can you show me again? I mean, I think I have the right answer. I don't know if it is. It seems right. Wait...oh no, it's wrong isn't it! All this time and—"

"Julia..." he rubbed his brow, frustrated, "It's fine. Look, I think it's time we call it a day. Maybe we can come back to it another—"

She peered at him worriedly, her green eyes nearly tearing up.

"Are you mad at me? I'm sorry; I'll get it next time. I promise I'll work harder, Freddie. We could even meet more often. But do I have the time? I think my mom said something about taking care of my brother. Hmmm. What do you think?"

He nodded wearily, hoping she would hurry up and leave. He'd never met someone that babbled so much or talked so fast. She wasn't a bad person. She just oozed this frenetic energy that was almost unsettling. Of course, he should be the last person to criticize someone else's faults, but, really...he was tired.

"Bye, Freddie! See you tomorrow!"

Julia's cheerful goodbye jolted Freddie into a half-hearted wave. Well, that was a disaster. And to pour lemon juice into his wound, he still had to tutor her. Freddie was many things, but he wasn't mean. Julia still needed his help. However, it was back to the drawing board for his plan to move on.

He stood up to leave, but much to the chagrin of the librarian, Carly burst through the door, her hair whipping back and forth as she presumably searched for him. The librarian sent a hush and a glare, both of which were ignored as Carly had just spotted her quarry. Freddie sat back down thinking no good could come of the conversation that was about to occur.

"Freddie, something's wrong with Sam," Carly whispered wide-eyed when she joined him at the table, "she looks horrible, she keeps zoning out, she barely talks, and worst of all, she doesn't respond to food! Something serious happened and I need you to help me find out what."

Freddie stayed silent, hoping, somewhat idealistically, that his friend would disappear. A bad mistake on his part because he'd forgotten Carly was as perceptive as they come. Her eyes narrowed and he winced.

"Unless you already know what's wrong."

He briefly thought about telling her the truth. It was what he wanted. To have it out in the open. But he realized that admitting he and Sam had had a secret relationship (not really his fault, but he agreed to it) behind her back for two and a half months and that he was responsible for breaking Sam's heart seemed slightly suicidal. So...he took the less elegant path and lied through his teeth.

"I think I heard something about her dad...or something..."

The mention of Sam's father was enough to remove any of Carly's suspicion. She immediately darted off to find Sam. Though Freddie knew Carly would eventually find out about his fib, the crisis was averted for the time the being.

One sigh of relief later, he was on the sidewalk pointed towards home. When he reached the Bushwell's entrance, his stomach gurgled. He certainly wasn't in the mood for any of his mother's horrible after school snacks. Instead he continued on to the Groovy Smoothie, his mind drifting into the all too dangerous mode of reminiscence. They were pushing and shoving each other playfully on the way to school. They were arguing over smoothies flavors. He was laying on the ground while Sam was grinning victoriously from her perch on the see-saw. They were lying in his bed, giggling as Freddie's fingers walked up and down her arm.

They were happy.

He abruptly crashed into the doorframe of the Groovy Smoothie. He hastily glanced around, hoping no one had seen. His hopes came to naught because standing right to his left was an exceedingly pretty blonde who appeared to be suppressing laughter.

Freddie felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" She asked still shaking with mirth.

He rubbed his sore forehead. "I-I think so..." He opened the door and let her in before him.

"Be careful. These door thingys are tricky," she said as she breezed past.

The interior of the Groovy Smoothie was almost unnaturally warm due to the number of customers. People crowded the tables and the line stretched to the door. More people pushed past Freddie and got into line. It took Freddie five minutes to place an order for a Mango Massacre and another five minutes to get his smoothie. He turned from the counter only to find most if not all the tables filled. He resigned to just drink on the way home, but a voice soon caught his attention.

"Hey! HEY! Hey, you! Combed-hair!"

The blonde waved wildly from a small circular table in the corner. He hesitated before he walked over and joined her.

"Saved you a seat. You looked a little dazed."

He let out a singular laugh. "Ha."

"Well, someone's ungrateful."

"Thanks," he said grudgingly.

They sipped in silence until the girl extended a hand, prompting him to reach out and shake it.

"I'm Avery," she said.

"I'm Freddie."

Her eyes widened.

"I thought I recognized you from somewhere! You're the techie on iCarly!"

"Yeah, I—"

"Freddie! There you are!"

Avery's eyes grew even larger when Carly suddenly materialized next to their table. His friend exuded anger that he could feel through the air. He didn't think that she'd figure out his lie this quickly. She must've gone all the way to Sam's and back. Carly grabbed his arm and began to drag him from his seat.

"You're coming with me, mister, and you're explaining what happened to Sam. I know you had something to do with it. I don't care if you're on a date."

Freddie swallowed the lump in his throat.

"It's not a date," he muttered, slowly standing up.

Avery took his hand and whipped out a pen. She scribbled something on it and smiled up at the both of them.

"Call me if you want to go on one sometime."

Carly stared for a few moments then turned and left. He gave a semi-apologetic nod and followed in Carly's wake.

Spencer would have been terrified at how recklessly his little sister drove through the Seattle streets. She paid uncharacteristically little attention to traffic laws and signs as she maneuvered her Beetle around the corners. Nevertheless, it was effective and Freddie tumbled from the passenger seat merely 6 minutes later. Usually, he would've taken at least 10 minutes. On a good day.

They beat a hasty path through the long grass to the front door where Carly knocked with gusto. The wind whistled to emphasize the obvious silence that enveloped the pair.

Carly knocked again.

"Sam! Sam, I'm here again. And I have Freddie. He's here to...apologize for whatever he did."

He opened his mouth to argue, but a glare from Carly put him in his place. Freddie looked down at his shoes.

"Stay here and keep knocking," she said, "I'll go around and check the windows."

Carly darted around the side of the house and hopped the low stone wall that marked the narrow lane to the backyard, leaving Freddie to knock in solitude. He wasn't sure how long he was standing there with his fist beating on the door, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds as opposed to the minutes he felt. Every second was significantly longer than the last because somewhere in him, he knew she was going to answer.

The wood fell away mid-knock and all of a sudden Sam was standing, rumpled and weary in the dimly lit doorway holding a baseball bat.

Freddie winced at the weapon.

"I come in peace," he joked weakly, holding his hands up in surrender. There was really nothing else he could do. Nothing else he wanted to do.

Her grip tightened on the hand of the metal bat. Her eyes flickered up to his right hand. He followed her gaze to find seven digits scrawled across his palm. A sense of dread filled him inside out.

"Wait, that's not—"

She slammed the door shut.

Once again, he was falling.

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><p><strong>Part 3 will be up sooner rather than later. Relatively.<strong>

**Speaking of Parts, I saw HP7 Part 2 at midnight. It was a hell of a wait. It was awesome. And now I'm sad.**

**Read! Review! Criticize! **


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